


SCP-5282

by ChibisUnleashed



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fic or Treat, Humor, It's Peter and Wade of course there's humor, M/M, SCP AU, mild depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibisUnleashed/pseuds/ChibisUnleashed
Summary: There's been a facility-wide SCP containment breach and it's Peter's job to put them back in their cells. If he can.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 107
Collections: Isn't It Bromantic - Fic or Treat 2020, Isn't it Bromantic?





	SCP-5282

**Author's Note:**

> For the Bromantic server's Fic or Treat 2020! <3
> 
> At the time of writing this, there is no SCP-5282. I fully expect if we give it a few years, there will be hah

Sirens  _ had  _ been going off, but someone must have flipped a switch somewhere because everything was too quiet, now. 

Peter’s job with Nine Tailed Fox had seemed really important about twenty minutes ago. Protecting the masses, keeping chaos contained. 

Now it seemed really, really stupid. 

A breach like this was never supposed to happen. One or two getting out of their cage, maybe. The whole complex let loose? There were supposed to be a million and one checks in place to make sure this never happened. 

It was almost easy remembering everything you needed to handle a single SCP safely. Look. Don’t look. Listen. Don’t listen. Each had a list and Nine Tailed Fox knew it by heart, but when the whole system broke, when the SCPs were basically thrown in a giant concrete bag, shook up, and pulled out at random, sometimes three at a time just to be froggy? 

Then the list included Look  _ and  _ Don’t Look, and Peter had liked Dave, but once you lock gazes with 096…

Peter tried to focus on the problem at hand, and not his general anger at being here in the first place. 

There was something in this room. 

Peter could feel it. Could hear it. Listen. But he couldn’t see it. 

He switched his goggles to night mode. 

“966!” Peter said in warning. He lifted his firearm to aim, to hold it off if needed, but 966 was actually pretty easy. As long as they could lead it back to its cell in a timely manner, they should be fine. There was only one, though. The facility listed fou—

_ “Auugh!”  _

Peter spun to look for the last remaining member of his squad. “Rogelio!”

SCP-966-3, or at least Peter was pretty sure that was 3, was lashing out at Rogelio with its claw-like fingers. He either didn’t have night vision turned on or the sounds were already disorienting him, because Rogelio wasn’t even looking in the right direction when he put his hands up to shield himself. 

Peter aimed again and managed to get off one round before the first instance of SCP-966 he’d seen caught up to him and suddenly Peter was feeling claws and seeing things and he  _ liked  _ Rogelio, he really did, but Peter had to save himself first. 

His attacker was close enough that his shots couldn’t miss. But 966 was resilient, aggressive, and tenacious, and Peter found himself backing up right out of the room just trying to get out of its reach. If he shut the door, then he was shutting Rogelio in with two of them, and maybe that would have ensured his safety… but Peter couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, so he still had what he thought was SCP-966-1 stalking him when SCP-966-2 appeared out of nowhere at his side. 

By himself with two of these things? Containment wasn’t a possibility. They’d knock him on his ass long before he ever got near their cage. It was time to cut his losses.

Peter ran. 

He ran, keeping an eye out for darkness on the floor, for movement out of the corner of his eye, for something in a place it shouldn’t be, keeping his ears tuned for the sounds of crying, of shouting, of shifting when there was nothing there to shift. Every time he opened a door, he was prepared to shut it immediately. Every time he turned a corner, he wondered if he’d blink and then never see again.

In a bout of paranoia, Peter slipped into an enclosed hall, the kind that led to cages, and pressed his back to the wall to catch his breath. He needed a plan that was ever so slightly better than, ‘stay alive.’ It was great short-term, but if all he did was run around forever, the SCPs would get him eventually. They didn’t have expiration dates the way Peter did. 

“Hey! Is someone there?”

Oh, shit. 

Peter looked at the wall beside him. SCP-5282. Object class Euclid. Sentient and Violent.

That told him nothing. That was half the SCPs in here. 

5282… 5282… Wasn’t that the unkillable guy?

“If you’re there… please… can you help me?”

Peter almost laughed. The sentient SCPs were always like this. Please, I’m harmless. Please, let me out. Please, I’m—

Peter heard steps in the hall outside. 

He would take his chances with the unkillable guy.

Peter hurried into the room with 5282 and shut the door behind him. At least 5282 was still contained. That made him a hell of a lot safer than whatever was out  _ there.  _

“Oh thank God. I thought I was going crazy. Crazier. You know what I mean.”

Peter closed his eyes and took a breath. The SCPs that seemed like normal humans were always the hardest.

“So hey, I’m Wade. What’s your name?”

Peter turned to the observation window between him and 5282. “I’m not going to tell you that.”

The man behind the glass took a moment, then nodded. “That’s fair. I’m a crazy, dangerous anomaly-thing. But you should know, if you don’t give me a name, I’m going to pick one for you.”

Peter snorted a laugh. Of course, out of all the hallways on this whole floor in this whole fortress, he had to sneak into the one with a mouthy, presumptuous, legitimately unkillable, seemingly normal guy. Well, not much he could do about that except walk back outside to his almost certain death. How bad could it be?

“How’s Sugarplum? Sweet cheeks? Cinnamon bun? Maybe pumpkin. Or pumpkin pie. Sweetie pie? Baby cakes!”

Peter winced. “You didn’t even consider nicknames, did you? You just dove straight passed into pet names.”

“You were turned around too long,” he explained with a shrug. “I got a good look at your ass. Pet names are all we have now.”

Peter shook his head in denial. “I’m at least supposed to get dinner and a movie out of it first.”

“Hit that button behind you and I’ll take you right to the first theater we can find.”

The reminder brought Peter up short. This was an SCP. He knew that, he did, but somehow… 

SCP-5282 was  _ very  _ dangerous this way. 

“I’m not letting you out.”

5282 sighed. His shoulders slumped and his feet shifted and Peter felt bad about it. 

_ Very  _ dangerous. 

“C’mon…” he said, and Peter knew whatever came after wasn’t going to be anything he wanted to hear. “You can’t just expect me to sit here, twiddling my thumbs, until everything going on out there returns to normal, can you?”

Peter thought he could see where this was going, and he didn’t like it. Because 5282 was going to be right. “Why not?”

“I can already tell you don’t buy it,” 5282 said. “I can tell you’re smarter than that, Baby Cakes. I might be an anomaly, but I’m still human. I need to eat. I need to shit. Nobody’s gonna come maintain my little cage until everybody else is securely back in theirs and that might take a really long time.”

Peter  _ knew  _ he wasn’t going to like it.

“I may not die, but I still hurt.”

_ Fuck.  _ Peter turned away from 5282 and paced back and forth in front of the panels that controlled his containment. It wasn’t his job to consider these things. It was the scientists’ who ran this place. He was Nine Tailed Fox. It was his job to put SCPs back in their cages  _ only.  _

But Peter hadn’t done so bad in his science classes, either. He knew very well the ethical struggle between knowledge and humanity. 5282  _ was  _ dangerous. But could Peter just leave him here to starve and waste away until somebody finally came for him? 

“Hey, Baby Cakes.”

Peter spun on his heel to glare through the glass. “That’s not my name.”

5282 shrugged. “I don’t know your name. I told you I’d pick one.”

Why couldn’t he have been an object? Sentient objects were easy to dismiss. They were  _ objects.  _

5282 didn’t know Peter’s name, but Peter knew his. Wade. He was SCP-5282, but he was also Wade. 

“I just thought I might try to make this a little easier on you.”

“Really? I didn’t know you could alter reality too.” Peter gestured at the glass. “Well, go on.”

“Hah,” Wade barked. “Good one. No. I meant, you’re stuck down here too, aren’t you? Nine Tailed Fox usually comes in threes and you’re alone, so I’m guessing shit hit the fan and somebody’s sending condolence letters later.”

The pit that opened up in Peter’s stomach was unwelcome at a time like this. He couldn’t afford to mourn yet. He really hoped Rogelio had gotten out of there. 

“Yeah,” Wade said, and Peter suddenly realized he was clenching his jaw and his hands had balled into fists. Wade was reading him like a book. “I’m sorry about that. But you need help getting out of here, and I can’t die. Seems like a really good reason to hit the button.”

Technically, Wade had brought up  _ two  _ good reasons now. But one huge reason remained for leaving him in his box. Wade was an SCP, and he was dangerous. He wouldn’t be down here in the first place if there hadn’t been reason to contain him. 

“How do I know you won’t kill me as soon as I do?”

“Because your ass is a work of art and I could never forgive myself for destroying such a beautiful thing.”

Peter stared. “Somehow I thought you would be serious about this.”

“I am being serious,” Wade insisted. “I would much rather shove my face in your ass than my hand through your chest.”

Peter shifted his stance and furrowed his brow. “Y’know, most SCPs would say things like, ‘I’m harmless,’ or, ‘I’m not supposed to be in here.’ That makes it very hard to parse, ‘I want to eat you out.’”

Wade held his hands out to either side. “Honesty’s the best policy.”

That assumed he was telling the truth. “So you’re not harmless?”

“I’m a very dangerous, unkillable anomaly,” Wade declared. “But I’m a very dangerous, unkillable anomaly who so far likes you and really just wants to get out of here.”

And you know? 

Peter really just wanted to get out of here, too. 

He hit the button releasing the locks on Wade’s door before he could think any harder about it. 

The fact of the matter was, Peter had already been regretting his position in Nine Tailed Fox before he ever made it down this hall. Getting fired for this wasn’t really a concern. 

Peter had already been nearly certain to die running around down here, whether he tried to make it to the surface or not. If Wade turned around and killed him, that might even be one of the better ways to go. 

Peter already felt guilt about Wade being stuck down here. If he actually walked away from this and left Wade to waste, that would have weighed on his heart forever. 

And the lack of concern Peter felt watching Wade run out of his cage through the tinted, darkened glass really sealed the deal for him. He didn’t regret letting Wade go free.

Peter sucked in a breath when the door slid open, in an instant suddenly sure he was about to die, but it was just Wade, mottled skin and standard jumpsuit much clearer now that there wasn’t thick, insulated glass between them. He waved his hand, gesturing Peter forward, and Peter trusted him enough to go. 

“What are you waiting for? Let’s go, Baby Cakes.”

“Peter,” he said. If they were going to be running around in this hellscape together, Wade might as well know. “My name’s Peter.”

Wade’s smile was brilliant. 

“That’s nice, but it’s too late. You’ll always be Baby Cakes to me now.” He grabbed Peter’s wrist and tugged him through the door, back into danger. “C’mon. Let’s get us out of here.”

There was a lot waiting for them at the end of this hall. Getting out alive was almost certainly impossible. 

But Wade’s warm, firm grip on his wrist did everything to make Peter sure. 

This was the right decision.

Also Nine Tailed Fox could suck it. 


End file.
